If she was trying to wound his ego, she’d have to try a lot harder. But he didn’t like her phrasing what he wanted from Roksana as “sealing the deal.” He didn’t have a name for what took place between them tonight, but it was a hell of a lot more than brokering a one-night stand. And what mother talked about their daughter like that, anyway?
“What job are you referring to?” If he didn’t like her answer, did he even have a chance of preventing some bad shit from going down? He mentally calculated how long it would take him to reach the safe and remove his department issued gun. Too long, dammit. “Does Roksana know you’re in Vegas?”
“Nyet, darling.” Inessa reared back with a pout. “That would make it much more difficult to kill her.”
Elias’s adrenaline spiked so hard, his vision blurred. Why didn’t he get Roksana’s number? How was he going to protect her if he didn’t know where to find her? “Yeah, there’s no fucking way that’s happening.” He worked to keep his voice steady. “Why do you want to kill your own daughter?”
Anger erupted in her eyes. “She makes a fool of me. Shunning her birthright to party and make merry and dance in the streets like a joke. Her insolence will not stand.”
Elias blinked several times, but his depth perception seemed to waver and he had a hard time focusing on her words. There was an odd energy coming from the man with the white feather in his hat, his focus on Elias oddly hypnotic. No way could he be responsible for the way Elias’s mind started to fuzz, his tongue turning heavy, though. Had his drink been spiked? “Her…birthright?”
“Yes.” Inessa rose from the bed, her long, white fingers clasping together at her waist. “Roksana was born to be a slayer, like myself. To carry my mantle. The slayerhood’s Russian contingent didn’t even exist until I built it from the ground up, populating it with nighttime warriors.” She squeezed her hands together so hard her hands started to shake. “My daughter makes a mockery of the institution I created. An institution that safeguards Russia, and in turn the world, from the putrid undead.” Stopping beside the man with the white feather in his hat, she patted him on the shoulder. “No offense.”
“None taken,” he rasped, his voice cultured, southern. “We know the score.”
“Are they…” Elias shook his head trying to clear it. “Roksana thought he was a—”
“Vampire? Oh, he is. They all are.” Inessa inclined her head. “It is even more infuriating that she refuses to embrace the family business when she possesses the gift of intuition. She could have been one of the best. Perhaps not as lethal as me.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Then again, who is?”
He struggled through his lethargy, piecing together the information she’d imparted as best as he could, but his eyes kept trying to close, his hands heavy as barbells by his sides. “What is happening to me?” he muttered, not intending to say it out loud.
Inessa smiled. “There’s a strength in you and we’d like to keep it at bay.”
Focus. Focus. Fight the fatigue. He’d been through worse, hadn’t he? “You say you’re a slayer? Of…vampires?” His right knee buckled and he caught himself against the wall. “Let’s say that bullshit is true. Why are you here together in the same room?”
She was silent so long, he wasn’t sure if he’d blacked out and missed her answer. Finally, though, she murmured, “At the top, there is no division. It’s only the risen cream, doing what needs to be done to stay afloat.” Her eyes tracked over him. “I think he’ll make a fine vampire, don’t you, men?”
All at once, the intruders took a step in Elias’s direction. “Stay the hell back,” Elias growled, reaching back for the door handle. Before he could wrench it open, the man with the white feather in his hat materialized behind him. Jesus Christ. Was he hallucinating or had the guy moved at the speed of light?
Elias grabbed the smirking fuck by his collar and threw him up against the wall, hitting him with a right cross that snapped his head to the side.
The lethargy in him dissipated.
He didn’t have time to enjoy the recovery. A set of hands caught him by the shoulders, dragging him farther into the room—and just like that, he was surrounded.
These were just humans, he reminded himself. He was just seeing things.
No way were their eyes glowing eerily green, others gold.
No way they had fucking fangs.
Elias should have been concerned for his own well-being, but there was only one thought running through his head. They want to kill Roksana. They want to kill Roksana. That reminder had Elias’s fists bunching, his body dropping into a fighting stance. “You want to go?” He crooked his finger at the closest dude. “Let’s fucking go, then.”